


busting loose

by Lire_Casander



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, hints at age-lap relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 15:58:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20176939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander
Summary: when I'm out on this open road, it's independence day on this lost highway





	busting loose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheballetslipperandTheblackhoodie21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheballetslipperandTheblackhoodie21/gifts).

> Written for a prompt by lovely S over at tumblr: _12 from the Summer Dialogue Prompts for Rosabel: "Roadtrip?" "…Roadtrip."_.
> 
> I own nothing except my mistakes. Title and summary taken from _Lost Highway_ by Bon Jovi. 
> 
> Again, not a single word here would have made any sense without the great beta work done by [estel_willow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/estel_willow).

They’re getting through the checklist pretty fast, standing close to the car, Rosa ticking off items as she reads them aloud and Isobel confirms that said item is already inside of the trunk. They’re playful, joking and bickering under the rising sun as Rosa reaches the bottom of the list.

“Sandwiches?”

“... Sandwiches.”

“Roadtrip?”

“... Roadtrip!”

They stare at each other for a second. Rosa looks amused, Isobel can tell, from the way Rosa plays with the stray locks that fall off her ponytail. Isobel is just plainly happy in a way she thinks she’s never been, not even with Noah. It’s been months since that fateful night when she almost lost everything – months of trying to find out where she stands, what she wants out of life now that she has managed to convince everyone that Noah’s vanished but isn’t officially a widow yet. It hasn’t been easy, adjusting to a world where she was on her own in the beginning since she couldn’t count on a quickly spiraling Michael and Max was on a pod surviving on a thread of hope while Liz worked against the clock to bring him back. For the first time in her life, Isobel’s got to fend for herself, and she’d have failed spectacularly hadn’t it been for a certain petite brunette.

Isobel caresses Rosa’s arm as she brushes past her, fondness softening her gaze as Rosa hops on the passenger seat. Isobel follows her, sitting behind the wheel and checking everything’s in place before starting the engine. It’s always been Noah the one to check everything regarding the car, or Michael whenever she met up with him at the ranch or the junkyard and he insisted on giving the engine a look. There’s so much she’s learned over the past weeks – about cars, mortgages, _herself_ – and she’s grateful that she’s got a support system to help her through the throes of finding out who she really is without Noah, without Max, without Michael.

“Let’s hit the 285!” Rosa chirps, pointing gleefully at the road ahead of them, stretching through the town and into the desert. Isobel nods in agreement and pushes the pedal gently.

As they ride throughout empty streets on a bright Sunday morning, Isobel recalls how a pity party on the rooftop back at the Crashdown Café brought her the peace she’d been looking for. She’d been hiding in plain sight, sitting with her back against the metallic structure of the sign, staring up at the stars just like she used to do when she was a teenager. Only this time she wasn’t possessed by Noah, but she was imbued by the crushing feeling that her life was rapidly spiraling out of control. And when she was thinking about leaving it all behind, about fleeing Roswell and setting up camp in front of Max’s pod at the cave and allowing her pain to take over, the door to the rooftop had opened and Rosa had sauntered out, offering smiles and a shoulder to cry on. For Isobel, a decade had passed – ten years where she’d got time to heal from the scars left by events she hadn’t remembered the way they actually developed. For Rosa, it had only been a day between meeting her at the cave and waking up with the worst hangover of her life. Isobel still doesn’t understand how Rosa could be so supportive, so gentle with her, but she was. Rosa had taken her hand, entwined their fingers, and pointed out at Ophiuchus somewhere up in the sky, asking softly “Is that where you are from?”

She had held Isobel afterwards, accepting her tearful apologies and rocking her through the realization that life would never be the same.

Growing close to Rosa hadn’t been on Isobel’s plans. Bringing Max back to life had been. Breaking Michael out of his downward trip to a hell of acetone and alcohol had been. Falling in love with Rosa – finding out Rosa had fallen in love with her – had never been something Isobel’d count on. And yet they had begun hanging out on the rooftop, sharing joints and the occasional bottle of wine Isobel snagged because, despite the ten years span, Rosa was still a minor. Then one day they had shared lunch over Rosa’s break at one of the booths in the Crashdown, stealing fries from each other and joking around. And somehow, Isobel doesn’t really know how it happened, they were holding hands and staring longingly into each other’s eyes, until kissing had been as natural as breathing.

“Are you okay, Iz?” Rosa asks while the car brushes past the outskirts of Roswell and into the unknown of the desert that surrounds the town. “You seem a bit off.”

“I was just thinking,” Isobel reassures her, one hand leaving the steering wheel to catch Rosa’s. “I’m really happy we’re getting to do this together.”

“Well, we never got the chance for a road trip, and I have to do it while I’m still young!”

Isobel laughs good naturedly, eyes never leaving the road ahead, until the car protests loudly, screeching and making sounds that even Isobel knows are not normal, and it slows noticeably. Isobel manages to pull up to the side of the road before the car halts and it’s impossible to start it again. She frowns, Rosa mimicking her at her right. “What’s wrong, Iz?” she asks. 

“I don't know,” she replies, trying to turn the key in the socket only to get a whine out of the engine, low and pained as though she’s driving a knife into the deepest of its core. “It just won't start again.”

“Maybe we should call Michael?” Rosa suggests softly. “He'll know what to do.”

“I don't want to bother him,” Isobel pouts. “It's his day off.” 

“And you're his sister,” Rosa points out wisely. 

“You know we're not really related by blood, don't you?” Isobel retorts. Part of her problems, she'd found out, were fueled by her dependance on her brothers, and throughout the weeks since Max woke back up she’s been trying to dissociate from them by repeatedly reminding herself – and whoever might be listening – that their psychic connection doesn’t mean they're actual family. 

“And Arturo's not my father, but that doesn’t mean we're not each other’s family.” Rosa hands her the purse where Isobel stacks his phone while she’s driving, and with a sigh Isobel fishes for it and dials Michael up. 

“Already missing me, Izzy?” he says gleefully when he picks the phone up. His voice is muffled by the distance, but she can make out a suppressed laugh and someone in the back calling for Michael.

“Am I interrupting something?” she questions, raising an eyebrow even though he can’t see her. “My car’s broken.”

“You know I’m all yours,” he promises. “Where are you? Send me your location and I’ll get over there with a crane.”

“Oh, no, no towing!” she protests.

“I make no promises!” Michael hangs up on her, and she huffs out an exasperated sigh. However, she pings him with their current location and waits a couple of seconds until the reply comes through, _gimme 10_.

True to his words, Michael shows up less than ten minutes later, driving his truck instead of a crane. He’s grinning as he jumps out of the car and walks towards them. “Broke the car already before hitting the highway, Isobel?” he teases her, nodding to Rosa, who replies with a grin of her own. “Lemme have a look. Open the hood?”

“You know I don’t-” Isobel gets cut off by Rosa, who’s already leaning inside the cabin and hitting the correct button so the hood pops open. “That.”

Michael fumbles with something in the engine before swearing under his breath. He comes up with hands stained and a furrowed brow. Isobel panics almost instantly.

“What is it? Is it grave? We’re not going on our road trip, are we? Shit,” she spitfires.

“It’s the timing belt,” he says softly. “It can be solved, but I’ll have to use my powers. Nothing major, but still better be safe than sorry,” he continues as he glances around to make sure no one’s around.

“We’re in the middle of the freaking desert, Guerin,” Rosa complains. “No one will see you. Can you get over with it so we can go back to our trip? _Thanks_.”

“Woah, bossy much, huh?” Michael winks at them before focusing again on the broken part. Isobel taps the ground impatiently as he works. “Done,” he finally says after what seems like a lifetime but it’s only eight minutes according to Isobel’s Gucci wristwatch. “Just be careful not to speed up too much,” Michael warns them. “Once you come back I’ll have a look at it again. With everything that’s happened I’ve been lacking in my brotherly duty.”

Isobel kisses him on the cheek and hugs him tight. She doesn’t need to use her gift to know he’s going to be alright while she’s gone off the sunset chasing her dreams with Rosa. They agreed on not labeling what they have – what they _are_ – and Michael’s been respectful of that. “I’ll call you when we arrive to our first stop,” she promises.

“I’ll take care of her,” Rosa says when Michael looks at her over Isobel’s shoulder. Michael nods against Isobel’s shirt before letting go of her. 

“Take care,” he finally says before getting back into his truck and waving goodbye. Isobel doesn’t let the dust he leaves on his wake settle before turning again to Rosa.

“Ready for our roadtrip, take two?” she grins.

“Always,” Rosa promises.


End file.
